On The Run

============================================================

===============================================================

The swing shift was the time of night David Raymond liked the most. Los Angeles took on a different personality when the sun went down. He and his partner Robert Glass entered the briefing room with the other Air Support officers for their nightly "to do" and wanted felons list.

"And, finally, gentlemen, our federal wanted list is only one person long tonight. Melissa Handerson is wanted in connection with vandalizing and destroying the property of Metro Labs in New York," the briefing sergeant explained.

Dave reacted to the name. Melissa Handerson? Holy crap! What the hell was she doing on a fed list? He knew she was working on some lab project in New York...

He couldn't believe it. Sweet little Mel? The "girl next door" type of gal that you could fall in love with at first sight? Did she and Bruce have some sort of falling out? He knew they were supposed to get married, but...

"What the hell is Mel doing on a fed list?" Dave said in a low voice.

"Is there something you wish to say, Officer Raymond?" the briefing sergeant said.

"Uh, no, Sarge. I just happen to know Miss Handerson, that's all," Dave stammered. He didn't care to admit that he and Melissa had attended the University Of Idaho some years ago...she graduated with a degree in Chemical Engineering, he with a degree in Criminal Justice, or that they had dated while they were in school...

"Well, then, you wouldn't mind keeping an eye out for her then, would you?" the sergeant asked.

"Well, if she's here, and if she did something wrong, then, yes, I will," Dave said. He still had a bit of a crush on Melissa, but he's a cop now. He has to do his job, even if meant arresting someone he had once loved...

"Thank you, Officer Raymond. As I was saying, gentlemen, she's wanted in connection with vandalism and destruction of property in New York. The word on the street is she's heading out this way for who knows what, so this is a National ATL. She is considered armed and extremely dangerous, so you chopper jocks keep your ground units covered aggressively. That's all. Dismissed."

Armed and extremely dangerous? Dave found that hard to believe. Melissa wasn't the type...she hated violence. Her parents raised her with higher morals than that. Perhaps she did have a fight with Bruce...who knew?

As the room was clearing out, Dave and Rob picked up their patrol assignment. "Oh, wonderful. Harbor patrol," Rob said, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.

"What's wrong with that, Robert?" Dave said.

"I hate the harbor, and I hate San Pedro," Rob finished.

"Just because of one little boating incident there?"

"Don't even go there, Dave."

Well, we'll stay mostly over Long Beach tonight, then," Dave said.

Rob gave him a sour look. He knew Dave liked to give him a hard time, but he didn't feel like being teased tonight.

===============================================================

The Hughes 500 roared to life as Dave and Rob prepared to lift off into the Los Angeles night sky. They ran down their checklist one item at a time.

"Video camera?" Dave asked

"Check," Rob said.

"FLIR system?"

"Check."

"Spotlight?"

"Check"

"Radio check?"

Rob keyed the police radio. "Dispatch, Air 6, radio check."

"Air 6, loud and clear," Dispatch radioed back.

"Okay, fuel stats?" Dave said.

"Full tanks," Rob said.

"Bodily functions?"

"Evacuated the bladder about 5 minutes ago," Rob joked.

"Your sense of humor has returned. Let's get this eggbeater airborne," Dave said, applying full power and easing the collective upward. He guided the Hughes 500 toward the harbor area as their clearance for takeoff came in.

===============================================================

A few hours later, Air 6 was engaged in a high speed chase on the Harbor Freeway. Seven cruisers were behind a red Chrysler LeBaron convertible, rolling Code 3.

Rob flipped on the Night Blaster spotlight. Instantly, the speeding car was bathed in the high-intensity glow, with Adam 318 close behind.

Dave looked at the video screen. "Uh, 318, I'm unable to see the driver...could be my angle. Standby, we're checking the FLIR."

Dave turned to Rob, who was flipping over to the FLIR system. "FLIR shows a heat source in the driver's seat," Rob said.

"Adam 318, Air 6. FLIR shows someone there...video shows nothing."

"Maybe it's some kid out for a joyride," another pursuit vehicle radioed.

"We gotta get this kid stopped...traffic's getting too heavy," Adam 318 said.

Rob looked at the FLIR again. "I'm zooming in. It looks like...a girl or woman driving that car." He had a cockeyed grin on his face. "Looks like she's...uh, well...umm..."

"What?" Dave asked.

"Well, in her birthday suit," Rob said, slightly embarrassed.

Dave made a note of that. "Adam 318, Air 6. FLIR shows a possible female occupant of the vehicle. Uh, be advised, traffic looks like it's backing up approximately 3 miles ahead."

As if on cue, the LeBaron took the nearest exit onto surface streets. The pursuit vehicles followed the LeBaron, with Air 6 swinging around to keep the car in the spotlight.

"I'd be willing to bet she's got a police-band scanner in that car," Rob said, noting the LeBaron's turn.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Dave said. "Check the video again...I'll try to get a better angle, so we can see this lady."

"I don't understand it...the FLIR says there's someone there, and the video is synched with the FLIR, so why doesn't it show her?" Rob asked.

"Probably a glitch in the video system that we didn't know about."

"Not possible, Dave...I can see the car crystal clear."

"Could be dirt or a bug splat on the lens," Dave said.

"Possibly. Remind me to clean it when we get back," Rob said.

"Air 6, 10-4, staying with the LeBaron. Dispatch, send another air unit to this location," Dave said.

"Air 6, Air 17 is en route, ETA, 5 minutes," Dispatch said.

The ground units terminated their pursuit to give the LeBaron room to maneuver and hopefully get herself boxed into a dead-end street. Dave thought about going lower to get a better look at the driver, but the normal hazards visible in daylight would be downright deadly at night. He decided to stay at the altitude he and Rob were at now. They switched off the spotlight to conserve battery power.

A few seconds later, the LeBaron turned into a cul-de-sac in an empty lot. Dave saw an opportunity to end the pursuit here. He keyed his microphone.

"All units, Air 6. The LeBaron has turned into an empty lot off 108th and Western."

"Driver's bailing!" Rob half-shouted. The car rolled to a stop as the woman jumped out.

"Be advised, driver is on foot," Dave said. "We're staying with her."

The woman ran across the empty lot to the nearest side street. A cruiser passed by where she was running to.

"Air 6 to unit on Paradise Drive."

"Baker 247," the unit radioed back.

"Driver is about to cross in front of your car."

"Where is she?" Baker 247 asked.

"Right in front of you," Dave said. "You can't miss her...she's in her birthday suit. She's heading to the housing projects."

"Not using video...we have her on FLIR," Dave said.

"I don't see anyone here," Baker 247 said.

Dave hit the spotlight again. A bush had moved. "Do you see her now?"

"No...but I saw a movement to the right in your spotlight," Baker 247 said as the cruiser stopped. The officer got out and ran in that direction.

"Air 6, Air 17, what's your status?" the other air unit called.

"We have a fleeing felon on Paradise Drive, near the projects. Come in from the south and hit your spot on Ramsdale at Western."

"Roger," Air 17 called. Instantly, another Night Blaster spotlight lit up the area where the pursuit had ended.

"Air 17, do you have her on video?" Dave called

"Crap...I've lost her on the FLIR," Rob said.

"Well, she's in the Projects...not many places she can go from here," Dave said.

The two choppers searched the area for the next half hour, with the ground units combing the area, looking for the woman. They had covered about a thirty square block area with no success.

"How could someone just vanish like that?" Rob said.

"I don't know, but we're gonna have to go refuel. Adam 318, Air 6," Dave said into the radio, "we're going to have to terminate our search. We're awfully low on fuel."

"Roger, Air 6, break. Dispatch and all units, we are terminating ground search. We're 10-24 the area, UTL, unknown female," Adam 318 said.

"Now, that sucks," Rob said.

===============================================================

===============================================================

Dave and Rob reviewed the FLIR and video tapes from the chase earlier that night. Rob had them plugged into the computer to enhance the quality.

"Now, here's the video, and here's the FLIR...same time index," Rob explained.
"And look..." Rob advanced the tapes frame by frame. "The FLIR shows that woman, but the video doesn't."

"Same time index?" Dave asked.

"To the millisecond...and the lens was clean. No smudges or smears or bug splats."

"Then why can't we see her on the video?" Dave asked.

"I thought maybe it was the altitude, or the spotlight's shadows..."

"That's a real puzzler. Maybe she's wearing some sort of light-absorbing material?" Dave asked.

"It's possible...I've heard of light-absorbing paint, so it isn't too far-fetched."

"Maybe just someone who wanted to show off," Dave suggested.

"Maybe...but I can't understand how we lost her after the chase. Someone had to have seen her down there in the Projects," Rob said.

"Well, if she was wearing this supposed light-absorbing material, isn't it possible she could have been standing right in front of us and we wouldn't see her?" Dave suggested.

"I doubt it," Rob said. "Everything throws a shadow...and something shaped like a person is very noticeable. Even if she was wearing this supposed material, it wouldn't be 100% perfect. There is no such thing as being totally invisible. Besides, what we have is just a theory."

"Well, with all the Hollywood movies and such, you'd think so," Dave said. He sipped his coffee. "Damn, I shouldn't be drinking this...I've got a few days off, and I want to get home and get some sleep. It's been a week of Mondays for me."

"After this chase tonight, I'm in agreement with you," Rob said.

Dave popped the tapes out of the VCRs. "I'm gonna file these, then I'll meet you downstairs?"

"Nope, sorry, not tonight. Debbie's waiting for me," Rob said.

Dave grinned. "Oh, I see..."

"Shaddap, you gravy-sucking idiot!" Rob said as he unzipped his flight suit.

Dave grinned some more. He remembered a time when he and Melissa were such an item...why the hell am I thinking about that now? Dave thought. He dropped off the videotapes, then headed to his locker.

He was lost in thought all the way home. The car chase...Melissa wanted by the feds...the incident in New York...what next? Dave thought. He pulled into his driveway...then it hit him. That car chase ended just a few blocks away, and they had searched this whole area. He had wondered why the area seemed familiar. He pressed the button on his garage door opener, and parked his Ford Bronco inside.

As the garage door closed, Dave picked up his flight bag and notebook, fumbled with his keys in the lock, then entered his house. It was dark, but the light was on over the stove, the message light blinking on his answering machine, and a pile of mail by the front door. He tossed his keys on the counter and picked up his mail.

"Bill, William, Will, bill, bill, letter from Jeremy, letter from Anita, bill, junk, junk..." he said, tossing the envelopes onto the counter by the open milk carton...

Open milk carton? He literally willed his Beretta into his hand, grabbing his flashlight at the same time. Someone was in his house...and he wasn't real thrilled about that. He performed a standard sweep of the house...living room, bathroom, his room, Jeremy's room, Anita's room...a noise downstairs. He sprinted to the basement door, shining the light ahead of him.

"Police officer! Who's down there?" he shouted. No answer as he opened the door, going low to avoid possible gunshots. He made his way downstairs, sweeping the rooms there. Just what he needed...a home invasion. Not gonna look nice on the chief's desk...

Movement in the laundry room. Dave got to the door, pistol and light leading the way. The pile of dirty clothes was moving around, like there was someone hiding under them.

"Police officer! Show yourself!" Dave shouted. His finger tensed on the trigger as the clothes moved to reveal...

Nothing.

Dave shook his head. "God damn, I am working too hard," he said, as he lowered his pistol.

"No, you're not," said a feminine voice.

"JESUS H. CHRIST!" Dave shouted, nearly jumping out of his skin. He took two steps back, tripping over his own feet. He landed on his backside, dropping the flashlight. He leveled his pistol on where the voice seemed to be coming from.

"What the hell is going on here?!?" Dave yelled.

"Well, if you'll calm down, Dave, I'll tell you," the voice said.

Calm down? I'm hearing voices...it knows my name...am I losing my mind? Dave thought.

"And lower your pistol...you know I won't hurt you. I need your help," the voice said, then added, "Please."

Oh, that's it, Dave thought. My little train has gone chugging around the bend...

His finger tensed on the trigger...

"University Of Idaho, May 20th, 1987. You graduated with a degree in Criminal Justice. You lived in the Theophilous Tower, 5th floor, apartment 503," the voice said.

Dave was puzzled...there were a few people who knew that...

"And I spent a lot of time walking across the campus with you..."

Dave nearly dropped his pistol. He could barely make his mouth move, but the words found their way out.

"Melissa?" he finally said.

"Hi, sweetie. I sure missed you," the empty space said.

No...this isn't happening. I'm dreaming, Dave thought.

His flashlight lifted itself off the floor. "You look like hell. Sorry about scaring you like this, but I'm serious. I need your help," the flashlight said.

Dave shook his head. Melissa's voice coming from his flashlight. Then, his pistol began to float. Oh, shit, now what? he thought. It came at him...grip first.

"I said I won't hurt you...you made the same promise to me when we first started seeing each other. Boy...there's one for the books. Remember that night at Taco Time, when you asked me to be your girlfriend?" the disembodied voice said.

There was only one other person who knew that...Dave stood up, facing his flashlight.

"Is it really you, Mel? Are you dead? Some sort of ghost?" he asked.

"No, I'm real...still the same ol' Mel Handerson, but I've got a big problem."

Dave reached out his hand...and felt resistance. The puzzled look on his face told Melissa what was going through his mind.

"Yes, Dave, I'm really invisible...and I could sure use a warm place to stay."

He touched what felt like shoulders...they sure felt familiar. Then, he felt pressure around his ribcage. Oh God! I'm having a heart attack! was the first thought that raced through his mind...but it wasn't intensely painful. Actually, it felt good...like he was being hugged. He wondered about the sensation for a second...then returned the gesture. He felt pressure in the same spot that Mel used to put her head so many years ago...then he heard a sniffle.

"Are you okay, Mel?" Dave asked, looking at nothing, but still holding...something.

Melissa sniffled a bit more. "Oh, Dave, I'm in serious trouble," she said, her voice breaking.

"You're telling me. I said someday you're gonna be working around all those chemicals and they're gonna do something weird to you," he said.

"That's not it," she said between sobs. "The feds are after me because of how I am now." She couldn't help but cry more.

Dave guided her upstairs. He made a pot of coffee and helped her sit at one of the barstools. He took a blanket off the couch and wrapped it around Mel's invisible shoulders. It was rather odd seeing a blanket floating in mid air, though...

"How bad...um, let me try to rephrase that. How serious of trouble are we talking?" he asked.

The coffee mug floated itself up toward where a mouth should have been. The steaming liquid vanished into thin air. "Oh, you remembered how I like my coffee. Trouble? Dave, there isn't a word yet coined to describe how deep of a sewer I am in," Melissa said.

"Last I heard, you were at some lab in New York," Dave said.

"Oh, yeah, Metropolitan Labs. Bruce and I were working on a government contract, and I just happened to create an invisibility formula."

"Well, it sure works," Dave said.

The blanket wrapped itself tighter. "Oh, it doesn't stop there. Bruce got it in his head to tell the military about this, without my input. I wanted to gradually ease into this after I had created the antidote. But, no, Mr. Bruce wouldn't keep his big mouth shut..."

"I thought you two had gotten married?" Dave asked.

"No...the stress and strain of working 18 hour days forced us to cancel that. But, anyway, Bruce starting popping off to the military about the formula, then they offered us a huge contract if we could mass-produce the stuff. Bruce was all for it, but I wasn't. You know those government jerk-offs...you give us the stuff, and we'll screw you in the end. Plus, they had big plans for using it with spies and so forth..."

"And you didn't want anything to do with that?" Dave concluded.

"Damn straight!" Melissa said. "Mom and Dad raised me to see the world as one people, not like, Oh, he's Russian, so he's the enemy, or, that's an Iraqi, so they're evil...and I certainly didn't want the military getting ahold of this."

"So, how did you turn invisible? Did you spill the stuff on yourself or drink it?"

"I injected it into myself...then I trashed the lab."

"So, that part of the National ATL is true. What about the 'armed and dangerous' bit?"

"All lies, Dave...you know that. Tell me how I'm going to hide a gun on me?"

Dave looked at the blanket. "It'd sure be interesting to see how..."

He heard a yawn coming from the blanket. "Can I stay here tonight?" Melissa asked.

"Where have you been staying?" Dave asked.

"Down at the harbor...there's a little cave there near the beach."

"Oh, I know which one you're talking about...in your condition, it's good that the homeless people there didn't know you were in the same place."

"I know...I've been going out and getting food for myself, looking like one of them. God, they smell awful!" Melissa said.

"Yes, I think I have room for you," Dave joked. "You can stay in Anita's room."

"Won't she mind?"

"Nah...she and Jeremy are in Wyoming with their mother. I get to see them for a month in the summer. I'm sure she's left some clothes here that you might be able to wear...although..."

"It would look really strange seeing clothes moving around by themselves," Melissa finished. "Think about how I feel! I can see through my own body...it's awfully scary being able to see through your own skull."

Dave laughed. "I'm sorry, honey...all I can do is imagine what it's like. Y'know what? I had a thought. I think Anita left some of her makeup here. What say we make you visible for awhile?"

"Can we do this in the morning? I'm really beat after that car chase," Melissa said.

"THAT was you?"

"How else was I supposed to get your attention?" Melissa asked.

"Beep-boop-beep-beep...ring ring," Dave said, making a "call me" motion.

"Oh, right...'Hello, Los Angeles Police Department, this is Melissa Handerson. I'm a wanted criminal, but I need to speak with Officer David Raymond,'" Melissa said sarcastically.

"You could have called me here and left a message," Dave said, remembering he had a message on his machine.

"I did, but I hung up after you said, 'This machine has detected where you are, so don't bother leaving a message...I know where to find you," Melissa said. "And, remember, the feds want me really bad, so I thought I had dialed the wrong number."

Dave looked at the blanket again. "You got a point. Well, you can take a shower if you want..."

"Already did that...I was putting the dirty towels in the laundry when you came in," Melissa said.

"And scared the crap out of me," Dave said.

"I'm sorry. But, I didn't know where else to turn..."

Dave put his arm around Melissa. He could almost see her face...or was it his mind's eye replaying an image of her, 12 years ago? He kissed her forehead...right in the place he expected her to be.

"Y'know...legally, I have to turn you in. But, since you're not here, how am I supposed to?"

"What do you mean 'not here'?"

"I mean, no physical presence. All that's here is an occupied space...no visible form to speak of. Legally, you're not here. Ergo, my quandary..."

Dave could imagine her smiling. Even her voice sounded happy. He felt a gentle pressure on his lips. "Thank you, sweetie! I knew I could count on you!"

===============================================================

===============================================================

Dave walked through the mall at Parker Center, LAPD, with one thought on his mind. He approached the filing clerk's desk.

"Hey, Sarge, could I see those tapes from the car chase last night?" Dave asked the desk sergeant.

"Which one?" the desk sergeant asked.

"The one from San Pedro," Dave said.

"Have they been filed yet?" the sergeant asked.

"I dropped them in the basket before I left. I got home before I realized I wanted to go over them myself."

"Well, let's see..." the sergeant said, turning to his computer. "Air 6...video and FLIR from last...yep. They're in the morgue."

"Great...I didn't sleep too good last night. The way we lost the female driver so quickly...I want to see what we could have done better."

"You had seven ground units involved...want their tapes, as well?"

"If they're available."

"Lemme check...Adam 318...San Pedro...yep. They're filed, as well'

"Okay, great! I'll just sign them out, and review them at home," Dave said.

"Well, you know, they're not supposed to leave the premises..."

"And, you know we're supposed to review our mistakes and make sure we don't repeat them. Besides, I'm off for a few days...I was the senior officer in charge, and I want to compile a report for the chief by Monday."

"Mmmm...well, if I didn't see you take them out...and if you 'conveniently forget' to sign for them..."

"Thanks, Sarge, I owe you one!" Dave said, hurrying to the vault.

===============================================================

"Now, look at this, Mel," Dave said. "Here's the infrared...we were locked on. There you are, plain as day."

The frame was frozen on Melissa's form, white from her body heat on the infrared camera.

"Uh, oh. Guess this invisibility isn't 100% perfect," Melissa said.

"You saw the difference...your invisibility is apparently optic, but you still shine like a light in the dark on IR."

Melissa sat back. "I really need to reverse this, then turn myself in."

"Are you sure you want to? I could just place you under arrest right now," Dave offered.

"What would that accomplish? Those federal jerks would probe me in places I didn't know I had on my body," she said. "Plus, you'd most likely never see me again."

"Well, look at all the strikes you have against you so far. Grand theft auto, breaking and entering, vandalism, destruction of property, unlawful flight to avoid prosecution...it's a damn good thing you didn't leave any prints on the LeBaron you 'borrowed', and I don't even want to know how you got in my house."

"All right, all right, I don't want to argue. I asked you for your help..."

"And you're gonna get it. I'll probably lose my job, but so what? I still care about you, Mel, even if your appearance has changed. You're still special to me," Dave said as he looked at her. She had borrowed some of his stepdaughter's makeup and clothes to reappear, if only temporarily. Anita was a "jeans and T-shirt" girl, which, surprisingly, fit Melissa well. However, the cheap wig didn't do her justice.

"And another thing...we definitely gotta find something a little bit better for you to wear," he added.

"Hey, you just try putting on makeup when you can't even see your own face!"

Dave had a thought. "You're still a blonde, right?"

"Was...that formula rendered everything invisible."

"Maybe we could shave your head, or use hair remover, and paint you with liquid latex, get you some colored contacts and a more realistic wig..."

"I see where you're going with this. Make a mask and gloves for me, right?"

"It'd be better than having to put on makeup all the time."

Melissa thought about that for a moment. "Anything would be better than being invisible...this is getting really old."

"And I can put my art minor degree to work," Dave said, "and I know where I can get everything we'll need to make you visible for now!"

===============================================================

Hours later, Melissa's features began to take shape as the foam latex molded itself to her face and hands. Dave applied the last bit of dyes and helped Melissa with the makeup to make the flesh tones a bit more realistic.

"There...from a distance, nobody will know the difference," he announced, holding up a mirror.

Melissa looked at herself. It was rather strange seeing her head and hands floating in midair, but her clothes could cover up her invisible parts.

"What about the wig?" she asked.

"I got a really strange look from the people at Frederick's...but I found one that closely resembles your hair color...at least, what I remember," Dave said, handing her the small package.

Melissa tried on the wig. "Why the short hairstyle?" she noted.

"That's all they had in stock...they were sold out of the long style. Besides, it isn't that short...I kinda like it," Dave said.

"Well, what do you think?" Melissa said, turning around.

Dave tried not to stare too much at the floating head and hands. "It's definitely you... but you really need to put on some clothes," he said.

"Oh...right. Sorry...I guess I'm used to running around naked," she said.

No problem there, Dave thought. "Are you any closer to rebuilding your antidote?" he said as she left the room.

"No, not yet," Melissa called from the next room. "I'm having trouble remembering all the different chemicals I used."

"A chemical engineer, and you can't remember the stuff you use?" he teased.

"Hey, remember, Officer Raymond, I'm under a lot of stress here. I got the feds after my ass," she reminded him.

"And a damn cute one it is!" Dave quipped.

"David Earl Raymond!!" Melissa said.

"I know, Mel...take it easy. I'm just teasing you," he said apologetically.

Melissa returned, fully dressed, and looking somewhat normal. "There...how's this?" she asked.

"Looking good, sweetheart," Dave said.

"I could have fun with this. I could pull my head off and go around scaring people," she said.

"Not a real good idea," he said.

"Why not? I seem to remember a chopper pilot who lost sight of a certain female in a Chrysler," she teased back.

Dave gave her a sour look. "Touché'."

Melissa sat down in the kitchen. "I really need to go someplace where I can relax and put together the antidote...I appreciate your hospitality, but the feds are gonna show up here pretty soon, and you're gonna get in deep trouble."

Dave poured a cup of coffee for himself and Melissa. "Well, you did know I have a cabin up at Big Bear, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't...remember, I haven't seen you since we broke up," she said.

"Well, if you want to relax, that's the place to go. It's right on the lake up there...nobody for miles...I got about three weeks of vacation coming..."

"Are you making me an offer?" Melissa asked.

"You can stay there as long as you want. I can fly up on weekends and bring you what you need, while you're working on your antidote. And, I'm pretty sure the feds won't find you there."

"What about your tapes? Won't they be asking about them?"

"Probably not...this was a fairly routine procedure. You know how many car chases we have here a day? That was nothing...I can always blame the optics and my altitude for the reason why we couldn't see you on video."

Melissa thought about that for a few minutes. "How soon can we get going up to Big Bear?"

"Right now...I'll pack some clothes. You can change that wig...I got a couple of others in different colors."

"Really? What colors?"

"I got a brown one and an auburn one. If you wear the auburn one and wear some sunglasses, you'll look like Anita," Dave said as he left the room.

"Good idea," Melissa said. "Should I change my makeup?"

"You'll see a picture of Anita in her room. Try to make yourself look like that," Dave said from his room.

===============================================================

It was nearing late afternoon when Dave and Melissa arrived at Torrance Municipal Airport. Dave was just finishing up the checklist on his chopper while Melissa put the dufflebags in the baggage compartment. She climbed inside and put on a headset as Dave started the engine.

"Torrance Tower, Hughes 1541 Delta holding at the Flying Club, ready for takeoff, northeast departure, VFR," Dave called.

"Hughes 1541 Delta, Torrance Tower, clear for takeoff, northeast departure, climb and maintain three thousand five hundred, contact LAX Departure Control on 122.900, squawk 1200, have a good flight," the tower called.

"Damn, he talks fast!" Melissa said.

"They have to...I'm glad I'm a police officer and not a traffic controller," Dave said, applying full power to the engine. The Hughes 500 eased off the pad as Dave steered to a northeast heading.

"We're on our way," he announced.

Melissa felt herself relax. This was the calmest she'd felt in over a month...and in a few hours, she could relax even more. She began to drift off to sleep...

===============================================================

===============================================================

Dave called Flight Service to open his flight plan as soon as they were airborne. He looked at Melissa, fast asleep before they had even cleared the tarmac. Poor baby, he thought. Wonder how long it's been since she's had a real chance to sleep. He recalled the night she had broken into his house...she was so wound up, she couldn't rest. Well, that'll change, he thought...she can relax and work on her antidote. The latex mask and gloves help hide her invisibility, but if she wants to go out in public, she's got to reverse the process. She did tell me the formula should have worn off a long time ago...she wasn't real sure why she's been invisible for so long.

The flight up to Big Bear was rather uneventful, save for three military Blackhawks that gave Dave a scare. He wasn't sure if he should wake Melissa or not, but when they continued on their way, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He looked in the back seat at his flight bag...the tapes from Parker Center were safe. At least he remembered to help Mel cover her tracks...as far as anyone from work knew, he was enjoying his days off and working on his incident report and briefing.

It was close to nightfall when they approached Dave's private landing pad on the lake near Big Bear. Dave shut off the engine and autorotated in to a quiet landing. Of course, there wasn't anyone around for 10 miles in every direction, and his cabin was on an island in the middle of the lake...and he was transporting a wanted fugitive.....and he really didn't feel like drawing attention to himself...

"Hey, gorgeous...time to wake up," Dave said as soon as the chopper had settled onto the pad.

Melissa never stirred.

Damn, she must be more tired than I thought, Dave said to himself. He got out and walked around to the passenger side.

"Mel...wake up, honey. We're there," Dave said, shaking her slightly. She just rolled her head to one side, moaning slightly, not once waking up. Dave unbuckled her harness, carefully removed her headset, and lifted her out of the seat.

He carried her up to the cabin, unlocked the door, and took her inside. He laid her on the couch and pulled a blanket over her. In the twilight, he looked at her...and remembered a time many years ago, when she'd come up to his apartment and stay overnight. She'd crash out on the couch after a heavy night of study...

Dave went back to the helicopter and got their clothes and groceries. He could take his boat down to town and get some of what Mel needed to start working on the antidote in the morning. The rest would have to wait until he visited the coroner's office.

Late that evening, Dave sat on the porch swing, watching the moon rise over the horizon...a deep yellow color. It was past full moon...that event having occurred a few nights ago. He heard boards creaking behind him.

"It's called a gibbous moon," said a voice behind him.

He recognized that voice. "I thought you were out for the night," he said.

"Well, I had a nice nap," Melissa said. "Mind if I join you?"

Dave motioned for her to sit down. She had brought the blanket from inside and cover the both of them with it. They put their arms around each other and snuggled close.

"I really appreciate what you're doing for me, Dave," Melissa said.

"Mel, you know me. Nothing is more important than you," he said.

"I thought you and Barbara were still a hot item," she said.

"No...after about four years, she decided she didn't want to be married to a cop anymore, so she packed up and moved to Wyoming. About the time I discovered that, here came her lawyers serving me with divorce papers."

"What about the kids?"

"They were hers from a previous marriage...we tried, but she just either couldn't or wouldn't get pregnant."

"But, you're still on good terms with her, aren't you?"

"Not really," Dave said. "Seems I got along better with Jeremy and Anita than with Barb."

"Why?"

"Because I'd do things with them that their dad never would, like take them to Hollywood, or Universal Studios, or Six Flags. I even went to their schools with Rob and the chopper on Parent's Days."

"Being the good daddy, right?"

"Tried to...but, as I said, Barb and I just didn't get along very well. That whole mess started after we moved here from Boise."

"Oh, that's right...you were accepted by the Idaho State Police..."

"I met Barb there...we got married...and it broke my heart to have to leave you," Dave confessed. "I wish you and I had gotten married when we wanted to."

"Dave, we were still in school...neither one of us had a very good job at that time. You were interning at the Moscow Police Department, I was working at Arby's, both of us living on campus..."

"I know...but hey, we're back together now. Nothing says we can't give it another try."

Melissa looked at him. "Another try?" she echoed.

"Sure...these past few days made me realize that I still have feelings for you, Mel. I can't even begin to tell you of the many nights I would lie awake after we broke up, thinking about you and me and how it could have been..."

He was silenced by a finger on his lips.

"You're right, you know," Melissa said. "I have to confess...there were more than a few times when Bruce would be angry with me that I would wonder how you would react in the same situation."

"Oh, really?" Dave said. "The truth IS out there, huh?"

"More than you know," Melissa said, kissing him.

Dave returned the favor. Twelve years seemed to vanish in mere seconds...

===============================================================

The next morning Melissa awoke to breakfast in bed. Dave brought in a platter and placed it over the invisible form in his bed.

"Oh, a special occasion?" she asked, sitting up. The blankets had moved themselves up around her shoulders.

"Not really...just something to say 'Welcome back'," Dave said, leaning over to kiss her.

Melissa felt her face. She had forgotten to put her mask and gloves on.

"Maybe I should make myself visible," she said.

"Oh, if you really want to...but I'm kinda getting used to this. Puts me in the mind of an old Ernie Kovacs show I saw on TV once about having an invisible girlfriend," Dave said.

"Oh, so I'm your girlfriend, huh?" Melissa said between bites.

It was rather unusual seeing a fork and knife moving by themselves, but Dave was coming to terms with this. Melissa was really here...they could start over again and have the life they were supposed to have...

He kneeled by the side of the bed, and took her invisible hand. "Well...let me rephrase that. Would you like to be my girlfriend again, Melissa?" Dave asked.

Melissa thought about that for a few moments. Here was the only man she ever really loved, putting his life and career on the line for her, asking her to be his girlfriend again...

"What about my condition?" she asked.

"What condition? You're still the same ol' Mel to me...nothing's changed," Dave said.

"Well, then, in that case...yes, Dave. I accept," she said.

Dave hugged her invisible body. "Mel, believe me...you won't regret this!"

===============================================================

===============================================================

===============================================================

===============================================================

"And right here is where we lost sight of the woman," Dave said, addressing the officers in the briefing room. They were reviewing the tapes from the car chase a few nights ago, trying to figure out what they could have done better.

The video screen showed three police units converging on the Projects as Air 6 banked around for a better view. Dave clicked the tape ahead frame by frame.

"Air 17 didn't get a good look at where we were at this time, and the three ground units here were confused about the direction the woman ran. Apparently, she was very knowledgeable about the area. I can only conclude that, during the heat of the moment, we did everything according to procedure, but she got extremely lucky and got away," Dave concluded.

"What about the video showing no one in the car, Officer Raymond?" one officer asked.

"That one puzzled my observer and myself...one theory we had was she was wearing something that absorbed light, or she was camouflaged, or our altitude and angle prevented us from getting a clearer picture."

"But the FLIR showed her in the nude," the same officer said.

"If I looked at you with the FLIR, it would show you in the nude, too, but I don't think I want to," Dave said, the room erupting with laughter.

"When she passed by my car, I didn't see her, either," the officer said.

"If you recall, Del Rio, you were looking in one direction, and by the time I had hit my spot, you saw her running through the bushes."

"I saw a bush move...but even now, I still can't recall if I did see a person or not," Officer Del Rio said.

"Well, anyway, gentlemen, that's the briefing. No sense knocking ourselves out over something we did our damnedest with. We did make a few mistakes, and our video systems probably weren't working as well as they should have been that night...but we did everything correctly and by the book," Dave said. "Sarge?"

The briefing sergeant took the podium. "Okay, boys, you got the scoop of the poop for tonight. Let's not let some woman get away from us tonight, or anybody, for that matter. Get out there and bring in the bad guys. Dismissed."

Dave and Rob picked up their patrol assignment as the room cleared out, just as the watch commander approached them.

"Raymond, could I have a word with you?" he asked.

"Sure...Rob, could you pre-flight us? I'll be out shortly," Dave said, turning to Rob.

"Yeah...no prob. Catch up with me," Rob said.

Dave turned to the watch commander. "So, what's up, Jerry?"

"You want to explain your vacation request, Dave?" Jerry said.

"What's to explain? I got three weeks coming, and I need the time off. I haven't had any real time off in eight months, and I'm about to blow a brain gasket."

Jerry looked at the vacation request form. "Well, Dave, you said three weeks, but actually, with all the comp time and sick time you've accumulated, you've got about two paid months off looking you in the face."

Dave nearly collapsed. His eyes were as big as saucers. "Two months?" he echoed.

"You want a written notice? Now, you know, according to protocol, you have to give us two weeks' notification for time off..."

"But, you'll pull a few strings and get me my vacation time by Friday," Dave finished.

"How did you know what I was about to say?" Jerry asked.

"Can't fool me, Jer...you're predictable as always! I'll name my firstborn male child after you!"

"You say that to everyone...now get to work!" Jerry smiled, thrusting his finger down the hallway.

Dave literally skipped out the door to the chopper. Five more days, then he and Mel could spend a lot of time together...and work on getting her visibility back. He hated to say "normal"...that would indicate she was disfigured or some other horrible condition. So far, nobody's found out about her...which was good. Who knows who could be after her? At least she can get started on her antidote...which reminds me...I need to go see Dr. Wilson after work...

===============================================================

===============================================================

Idaho State Police Headquarters, Boise, Idaho:

Two deputy US Marshals approached the records-keeping office.

"Good morning, gentlemen. How may I help you?" the records clerk asked.

"I'm Deputy Greg Witherspoon, this is Deputy Anita Houston," Witherspoon said, flashing their badges. "We're trying to locate one of your officers, a David Reagan, or Grayson, or Raymond. Is there anyone by any of those names employed here?"

The clerk turned to her computer. "Hmm...let's see...the first one, Reagan, you said?

R-E-A-G-A-N?"

"Possibly...would you check all the spellings?" Deputy Houston said.

The clerk typed the names into the computer. "I don't show any David Reagan, but there is a David Ragan assigned to our Coeur d'Alene district."

Witherspoon wrote down the name and the officer's location. "Okay, now how about Grayson?"

The clerk began typing again. "All possible spellings?"

"Please."

"David Grayson...no one by that name is employed by us," the clerk said.

"Okay...how about Raymond?"

The clerk typed the name. "Well, it looks like we have two employed by us. One in Pocatello, and one in Nampa."

Witherspoon wrote that down. "Okay, we have a starting point." Then he had a thought. "How about former employees?"

The clerk checked the computer. "Oh, yes...a David Raymond...transferred out to California a few years ago."

Witherspoon wrote that down. "That'll do for now...you wouldn't happen to have any photos of these officers, would you?"

"No, sir...not in the computer. They are posted on the wall in the lobby."

"Okay...I think we have all we need to get started. Thank you for your assistance."

As they turned to leave, the clerk asked, "Is one of our officers in trouble?"

Houston turned back. "No, ma'am...we just need to ask them some questions," she said. "And, again, thank you for your cooperation."

They stepped outside the office and compared notes. "Well, Greg, what should it be first?" Houston asked.

Witherspoon headed for the front door. An Idaho State Police trooper passed by, clipboard in hand. "Excuse me, sir, which way is Nampa?"

The trooper stopped. "Beg pardon?"

"How do we get to Nampa from here?" Witherspoon asked.

"Take I-84 west about 30 miles," the trooper said. "It's near Caldwell."

"Thank you," Witherspoon asked, as he and Houston left the building.

They walked toward a light blue Ford Taurus sedan with government plates on it. Inside was an impatient older man frowning over a notebook.

"Colonel Johnson," Witherspoon said as he opened the door, "we have a few leads..."

"I don't want leads, damn it, I want that woman found now!" he exclaimed, slamming the notebook shut.

Witherspoon winced at this latest outburst. He had grown accustomed to Johnson's frequent tirades. "We will, sir, we just need to..."

"You need to pull your damn head out of your ass and find that woman! She has to be found before she can sell the secret to the Russkies," Johnson said.

Houston was just entering the car and fastening her seatbelt. "We don't call them Russkies anymore, Colonel..." she started.

"You just keep your damn yap shut, lady!" Johnson said.

Witherspoon wondered what the penalty would be for "silencing" the Colonel rather forcefully, but settled on the direct approach.

"Colonel, we will find her. Your constant shouting at us isn't going to make us move any faster. We have endured your constant bitching and griping at us for the littlest things. Now, you have a choice. Either you shut the hell up and help us, or I will personally tape your lips shut and ship you back to DC in a very small box on the smallest plane I can find!" Witherspoon snapped.

Johnson was taken aback. "Do you know who you're speaking to, Deputy Witherspoon?"

"Sir, I wouldn't care if you were Bill Clinton himself...I'd still tell him the same thing. Deputy Houston and myself are NOT in your military. You DO NOT have the right to order us around and yell at us like we're a couple of untrained idiots, simply because Miss Handerson has something you want really bad. We are professional deputy US Marshals, and contrary to popular belief, we are not stupid. We are doing our job. You would do well to remember that, or I will end this assignment right now and have you hauled off to Leavenworth for harassment and assaulting a deputy US Marshal," and he finished with, "Sir."

Johnson stopped for a moment. The silence was deafening. Finally, he spoke, in a civilized manner.

"All right then, Mr. Witherspoon. I'll be civil for the duration of this mission. What is our first objective?"

"Well, sir," Witherspoon said, clearing his throat, "our first lead is in Nampa, which is about 30 miles to the west. Our next lead is Pocatello...wherever the hell that is, then Coeur d'Alene. One other lead we have is Los Angeles...we'll be checking that later."

"Okay, fine. Let's go to Nampa, then...see if our 'lady friend' has been there."

Houston knew what they were talking about...and personally, I hope the Colonel gets what's coming to him, she thought.

===============================================================

"Officer Raymond, contact the station at your convenience for phone message."

He keyed the radio. "Go ahead."

"Need you to 10-21."

He signaled a right turn, and drove the Idaho State Police cruiser through a parking lot...

"10-4," he said. "I'm near a Jack In The Box in Meridian, on 5th and Division, out at the phone booth. Number here is 555-8797..."

===============================================================

"Officer Raymond, I'm Deputy Witherspoon. I need to ask you a couple of questions."

"Sure...what do you need?" he said as he loaded his pistol.

"Do you know a Melissa Handerson?"

Raymond wrinkled his brow. "Who?"

"Melissa Handerson," Witherspoon said.

Raymond attached a target to the track and sent it downrange. "No, sir. Never heard of her."

"Did you attend the University Of Idaho?"

"No, sir...I transferred here from Kansas." He drew a bead on the target, and placed ten shots neatly in the middle of the target. He brought the target back.

"Nice grouping, Officer Raymond. Well, sorry to have bothered you. Obviously you're not the person we're looking for."

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help," Raymond said, attaching another target to the track.

===============================================================

"...and I'm willing to bet Coeur d'Alene will be a bust, too," Witherspoon said.

The Horizon Air Dash-8 cruised through the skies above Idaho on it's way to the Coeur d'Alene airport.

"Well, we do have the Los Angeles lead we haven't checked yet," Houston said.

"Yeah, with our luck, that'd be the one," Witherspoon said.

Col. Johnson snored loudly in the back of the plane.

"I'd love to stuff a dirty sock down his throat," Houston said, indicating the Colonel.

Witherspoon could barely stifle a snicker. "I was thinking the same thing, but along the line of dirty underwear."

They both broke out laughing. Johnson continued snoring, dreaming his dreams of finding Melissa Handerson, and using the invisibility formula for himself. Hell, I could take over the world...overthrow the president...be the next emperor...do anything I want...

===============================================================

===============================================================

Jerry stopped Dave in the hallway after his and Rob's shift. He had a serious look on his face.

"What's up, Jer? You look constipated," Dave joked.

"Cut the crap, Dave. There's two deputy US Marshals in the interview room, and they want to talk to you," Jerry said.

Deputy US Marshals? Holy (expletive deleted), they're on to Mel, Dave thought. He hid his fear and concern with his next question:

"Any idea what they want?"

"Obviously to talk to you about that woman on the Federal Wanted list," Jerry said.

Dave faked forgetfulness for a moment, then, "Oh, Melissa Handerson? They probably heard that I know her and most likely want to know if I've seen her."

"Well, don't tell me, just go talk to them," Jerry said.

"Sure...no prob. Rob?" Dave said, turning to address his observer," would be so kind as to file our tapes and get started on the post-flight debriefing while I go talk to those marshals?"

"Sure thing, Dave," Rob said.

Dave was a little nervous. No, just tell them the truth...I haven't seen her, he thought, a cockeyed grin on his face. Well, it was true...he hadn't actually "seen" her, so he could get away with it. Any polygraph would register the truth...

Dave opened the interview room door. Inside was a man and woman, dressed appropriately in business attire. The man was wearing a three-piece suit, the woman dressed in a mid-length skirt, heels, tan nylons, a nice blouse...

"Good evening, I'm Officer David Raymond," Dave said, introducing himself.

"Officer Raymond, I'm Deputy Greg Witherspoon, this is Deputy Anita Houston," Witherspoon said, introducing themselves. They all exchanged handshakes.

"I apologize for my attire...I just got off shift," Dave said, indicating his flight suit.

"No problem, Officer Raymond. Your watch commander, no doubt, told you why we're here?" Witherspoon said.

"Sort of...I'd guess you want to know about Melissa Handerson?" Dave asked.

"Very good guess, Officer Raymond," Witherspoon said.

"Of course...I saw the notice last week. Sure caught me by surprise," Dave said.

"Then you do know her?" Witherspoon said.

"Of course...we attended the University Of Idaho together," Dave said.

"How long have you known her?" Houston asked.

"About twelve years...I haven't seen her since after graduation."

"But you kept in contact with her?" Witherspoon asked.

"By phone, mostly. I'd send her a card on her birthday, or at Christmas...well, all the holidays, actually," Dave smiled.

"So, you two were 'more' than friends?" Witherspoon asked.

Dave smiled more. "Yeah...we lived together during our senior year."

"When was the last time you had seen her?" Houston asked.

"About...oh..." Dave caught himself. He nearly said "five days ago", but recovered quickly with a pregnant pause to throw them off, as if he were lost in thought...

"...June of 1987," Dave finished. "I had been accepted by the Idaho State Police, and Mel went to work at some chemical lab in Spokane, Washington, then I heard she had gotten a big break and moved to New York."

"Did you ever visit her there?" Witherspoon asked.

"No...I could never get the time off...plus, she had gotten engaged to one of the doctors there," Dave said.

"You said you talked to her on the phone...did she ever indicate that she was in trouble or having problems or anything of the sort?"

"No...I never made it a habit to ask her about her work or personal life, since she was engaged. I felt it was none of my business," Dave said. Where the hell are these questions leading? he thought.

"Well, Officer Raymond, you did know there was an accident at the New York labs, did you not?" Witherspoon said.

Dave faked concern. He hoped it was enough to fool them. "No, I didn't. I do know Mel's accused of vandalizing the labs..."

"Well, apparently, she destroyed a top-secret experiment, set fire to the lab, and killed three security guards as she was leaving," Witherspoon said.

"I don't believe that! I know Mel better than you think...she would never do anything like that. Her morals are much higher than most people think," Dave said, the anger showing in his voice. He caught on to the line of questioning...they were trying to find her, but they have no idea where she is. Better play along with this...I've had my outburst, now to lead them someplace else, he thought. He forced himself to calm down...another outburst like that, and he could spill the beans. "I'm sorry, Deputy Witherspoon...I still do care about Mel. I find it hard to believe she would do something like that."

Houston made a note of Dave's outburst. Apparently he had some strong feelings for their suspect...perhaps he knows where she is, in which case, he's harboring a fugitive, she thought.

"Do you know where she could be, Officer Raymond?" Witherspoon asked.

They don't know where she is, he thought. He hid a grin. Now, he truly could help Mel outwink the feds, and get her visibility back...

"Well, I know her folks live in New York state someplace...I think in Buffalo or someplace upstate there. She's also got a brother in Montana or Wyoming."

"Well, that concurs with what Dr. Miller told us...so you have not seen her at all?"

"Nope...I don't even think she knows where I live."

"All right then, Officer Raymond. Thanks for your cooperation...if you do happen to see her, let us know, will you?" Witherspoon said.

"Now, you're asking me to do something difficult...but if what you said is true, then yes, I will," Dave said as he turned to leave, then stopped. "What exactly was it she was working on?" he asked Witherspoon.

"An extremely sensitive experiment that we are not at liberty to discuss," Witherspoon said.

"Well, I guess I shouldn't have asked in the first place, so if you'll excuse me, Deputies, I'm about to go on vacation for two months."

"Certainly, Officer Raymond, and thank you for your cooperation," Houston said.

Government robots, Dave thought as he hid a grin again. Yep, I know what it is. You clowns aren't gonna get it...at least, not until Mel develops the antidote, then hoo boy, the crud's gonna hit the fan! He left the interview room, and walked a bit faster than usual to his locker. Better keep a low profile for now...they'll be watching me. I can always sneak out of town without them following me...best not fly up to Big Bear, they might be expecting that...

===============================================================

The next morning, Dave loaded the Bronco with a month's worth of clothes and equipment...his pistol and shotgun, ammunition, his handheld radio, and other stuff he felt he needed. He locked up his house and started the engine. As he backed out of the garage, he kept an eye out for any unusual vehicles that would look odd in the neighborhood...

One particular Ford Taurus caught his eye, but he pretended not to notice. As he drove by, he saw three people inside. One looked like an Army officer, the other two like Deputies Houston and Witherspoon.

"Christ, you guys...if you're gonna stake out a house, you gotta be inconspicuous," he said out loud as he drove by. Obviously NOT from around here, he thought. They never heard him, of course.

Dave drove down the street and turned right. The Taurus started up and moved in the same direction as the Bronco. Dave turned on the handheld, but thought twice about transmitting on the air. The usual police traffic was coming over the speaker. Those deputy marshals might have a scanner or some supersecret government radio with them, he thought. He sped up a bit to give himself some distance, and to get more traffic in between him and the Taurus...that way, he could lose them more easily and get out of town faster.

Inside the Taurus, Witherspoon was trying to keep up with the accelerating Bronco.

"Dammit, he's made us," Col. Johnson said.

"I told you, Colonel, he's going on vacation," Witherspoon said.

"And he knows where his lady friend is, despite what he told you," Johnson said. "He also knows she's taken that formula, and I want it back immediately."

Witherspoon agreed. Maybe Officer Raymond was lying to them...the only way they'd find out, though, is to follow him...

The Bronco was now about 3/4 of a mile ahead of them. Witherspoon found it hard to keep up...Los Angeles traffic was ten times worse than Washington, DC, or New York City traffic...

Dave made a quick right turn, then doubled back on himself...

Witherspoon made the same right turn...and lost the Bronco.

"Dammit! We lost him!" Witherspoon said.

"I told you to keep up with him," Johnson said. "Now, he could be anywhere."

Dave circled the block, and came to within 1/4 mile of the Taurus.

"Just look in your rear view mirror, Witherspoon...the Bronco you were following is now behind you," Dave laughed.

He followed them for about an hour, always keeping just out of sight. They had no idea where Dave had gone...they were blindly stumbling around where he could have gone. He laughed as they made all the wrong turns, going into dead end streets, going the wrong way on one-way streets.

Witherspoon stopped the Taurus in frustration. He picked up his handheld radio. "Command, Alpha 4. We've lost Officer Raymond at..." He struggled to read the street sign "...Gaffey and 34th Street."

"Copy, Alpha 4. Sierra 7 will pick him up at the 405 Interchange," Command radioed back.

"Witherspoon, I'll have your badge for this blunder," Johnson said.

"And I'll force feed it to you through your anal passage, Johnson. I've had it with your attitude and your belligerence. You want to find Melissa Handerson, you can do it yourself for all I care. Anita, we'll be leaving the Colonel now," Witherspoon said, turning to address Houston.

Dave watched from a distance as Witherspoon and Houston got out of the Taurus, arms flailing and Witherspoon's body lurching as if he were shouting at someone. He laughed harder.

"Definitely NOT from Los Angeles. But, fun and games are over for now...I gotta get up to Big Bear," Dave said to himself. He took the next exit onto the freeway, still keeping an eye out for any suspicious vehicles following him....

===============================================================

===============================================================

===============================================================

Dave opened the door to the cabin...and was mildly surprised by the jeans and shoes moving around by themselves.

"Hi, honey," Melissa said, as Dave put down his duffel bag. "Sure took you long enough to get here."

"Well, I had to answer a few questions from a couple of deputy US Marshals. So, you wanna tell me about the three guards you supposedly killed?" Dave asked.

Melissa let out an exasperated breath. "I knew that dirty, lying, sack of pond scum was gonna pull some kind of crap like that to cover his ass," she said. A piece of toast and cup of coffee was moving by themselves near where her mouth was.

"And which sack of pond scum are we talking about?"

"Bruce...and that damned jerk Johnson," Melissa said.

"That Army officer you told me about?" Dave asked.

"Yeah...he doesn't want to account for the slip-up in security, so he most likely made up the story, or, heaven forbid, had someone actually do that."

"If that's the case, Mel, then I'd suggest you get to work on the antidote ASAP, then turn yourself in."

"You did say at one time you'd arrest me..." Melissa began.

"But I'd look kinda stupid bringing in a pair of handcuffs," Dave finished. "Tell ya what, you get going on your antidote, then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." He checked the cupboards and pantry. "Looks like I have to go to town tomorrow and get some more food. And I thought..."

"Don't you even start, mister," Mel snapped.

Dave blinked a few times. "Whoa, Nellie! 32 degrees, Fahrenheit! I was only going to say I thought you wouldn't be eating very much, since you were hard at work trying to engineer your reagent." He heard a sniffle. "Are you crying, Mel?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm so afraid...I knew what...I thought I knew...Oh, Dave..."

Dave put his arms around his invisible sweetheart. "I gotcha, sweetie. Let's take a break, huh? Try to relax a bit, 'kay?" He guided her to the couch, where they both sat down. He felt her head on his shoulder, and ran his hand through her invisible hair. He embraced her and gently rocked her...

===============================================================

Hours later, Mel was feeling much better. The pressure of being invisible, plus the threat of Johnson on her trail gave her the determination she needed to get the antidote created. While she worked, Dave was watching TV. There was very little he could do...after all, he was a police pilot, not a chemical engineer. He was lucky if he didn't burn breakfast every morning...

"I think I got it!" he heard Melissa shout from the basement.

Dave went to the top of the stairs. "You think so?" he called to her.

"Yeah...come on down! I really need your help now!" she said excitedly.

Dave went to the basement into his old photo lab...well, what was going to be a photo lab...he just never finished it, or got the equipment he needed. He was greeted by a floating lab coat, an eyedropper, and a Mason jar.

"Watch this," Melissa said as he entered.

Dave saw the Mason jar Mel held had a bright red tinge to it. "What caused that red color?" he asked.

"That's the invisibility chemical...now watch this. I have some of the chemical you brought to me in this dropper...and when I squeeze the bulb..."

Dave watched as the black rubber bulb squeezed itself, and a few drops dripped into the Mason jar. A few seconds later, the bright red tinge vanished, being replaced by the normal "color" of clear glass, with a slightly green liquid inside.

"And your point is...?" Dave asked.

"Well, just watch...In this shoebox, I have a field mouse I caught a few days ago, that I injected with some of the invisibility chemical. And...I hope this works..."

A hypodermic syringe began to fill itself with the hoped-for reagent. It floated over to the shoebox, where Dave saw...nothing inside.

"You sure that mouse is in there? Looks like he escaped," Dave said.

"No, no...he's in there," Mel said. "The cheese I put in there has been eaten." The needle moved over what looked like a nest, then Dave noticed the point disappear. The syringe emptied itself, then Mel put the lid on. The box began to shake as something moved around inside rapidly. A few minutes later, the shaking stopped.

"Keep your fingers crossed..." Mel said as she opened the box.

Dave prayed and crossed his fingers...

The box opened...

And a small mouse was inside the box, looking like it was exhausted.

"YYYYYYYYYYYYYYES!" Mel shouted.

Dave cocked an eyebrow, like Spock on "Star Trek."

"Interesting...but will it work on you?" he asked.

"I sure hope so...this is the only mouse that didn't die," Mel said. "Now, this is where I need your help. I'm going to inject myself with this solution. That mouse's running around was a pain reaction...

"I gotcha...you need me to help restrain you when you inject yourself," Dave said.

"That's right...and I'm so scared right now...what if I don't have the chemistry balanced properly? What if this stuff kills me? What if..."

"Well, you won't know until you try, honey," Dave said. "But. no matter what happens, good, bad, or ugly, I still love you." He walked over to where the lab coat was floating, and kissed her.

She returned the favor. "Okay," she said as they broke, "here goes nothing."

Another syringe filled itself with the liquid.

"I need you to hold me real tight, Dave," Mel said, rolling up her sleeve. "Put your arms around my upper body, and one foot in front of my legs."

"Like 'assuming the position'"? Dave asked.

"Exactly like you're restraining a violent criminal, like me," Mel joked.

Dave did as he was told...

The syringe's needle disappeared into Mel's invisible flesh, the liquid emptying itself into her body...

A slight pause...the silence was like the calm before the storm...

And the scream that followed was heard by Pioneer 10, on it's way into deep space...

Seconds later, Mel passed out from the intense pain.

"Oh, dear Jesus...she's killed herself," Dave said to himself, as he broke her fall to the floor. He felt for a pulse. It was there, but it was racing. Has to be about 150, he thought...

Then he noticed a slight blurring in the area of Mel's body...slightly at first. He rubbed his eyes, as if they were watering, but the blur became more intense, taking on a slight opacity, becoming more solid at the seconds ticked away...

Two minutes and thirteen seconds later, Melissa opened her eyes...and saw her hands. She turned them over several times, as if she were looking at them for the first time. Then she looked at a smiling Dave.

"Welcome back, Mel. It's great to see you again," he said.

"Is my face visible too?" she asked.

Dave took the liberty of examining her naked body. "That, and the rest of you. Clear as mud," he joked.

She seemed exhausted, as she put her arms around him. "I never want to do that again...unless I put in a tranquilizer," she said.

Dave lifted her off the floor, and carried her upstairs to the bedroom. "You look like you could use some rest."

"After nearly two months...honey, I'm exhausted," Mel said.

===============================================================

Three weeks later, Dave went into Big Bear to get groceries and other items he and Mel would be needing while they worked out a plan for her to trip Johnson up. As he was tying up the boat, he heard a voice behind him.

"Officer Raymond?"

Dave recognized that voice...that was Deputy Witherspoon. He pretended to be busy tying a knot.

"Hello, Deputy Witherspoon. What brings you to Big Bear?"

"Well, sir, if you must know...your friend Melissa Handerson."

Dave still went about his business. "What makes you think she's here?" he asked.

"Colonel William Johnson...he's getting together an elite Special Forces team to bring her in. If you know where she is, you'd best tell her before they come storming in and haul her away."

Dave stopped. "You sons of bitches knew where she was all along, didn't you?"

"Actually, no. Deputy Houston and myself happened to stumble onto her whereabouts purely by accident. But, since the Colonel's such a hard assed jerk, we decided to help you out."

"What do you mean, 'help us out?'"

"I mean, we know Miss Handerson didn't set fire to the lab, or kill those security guards..."

"So, there were people killed, huh?" Dave said.

"Yes, sir...we can prove the Colonel did it to frame your friend. That's why Anita and I are here. We'll grant you both total immunity from prosecution if you and Miss Handerson will turn state's evidence against the Colonel and Dr. Bruce Miller for their involvement in a conspiracy and cover-up."

Dave stood up and looked Witherspoon in the eye. "I don't recall being an attorney was a requirement to be a US Marshal, Deputy," Dave said.

"Officer Raymond..." Witherspoon paused, "...David, please, sir, call me Greg. I'm off-duty, as are you."

"And...Greg...if you're wired..." Dave started.

"Nope...doesn't work here...Headquarters doesn't even know Anita and I are here."

Dave thought about what Witherspoon was saying. The area they were in was a big radio wave "black hole", due to the mountains surrounding the area...

"Okay, Greg, suppose I do know where Melissa is. By law, I'm harboring a federal fugitive..."

"Not anymore, David...all the charges against her will be dropped, in exchange for state's evidence."

"Well...now, supposing I know where she is...I tell her this, and she doesn't go for it."

"Johnson brings in his Green Berets, I never had this conversation with you, you go to prison, and you never see her again."

"Good point. Okay, the flip side of that..."

"We never had this conversation...she surrenders to the police, and claims to have evidence supporting Johnson and Miller's illegal activities."

"And, where would she get this 'evidence'?" Dave asked.

Greg cleared his throat. "Well, let's just say that you 'happened' to find a certain manila envelope in her personal belongings..."

Dave grinned. "I see...and then she 'suddenly' gets the idea to surrender to the police..."

"I think there's hope for you yet, David. By the way...has she reversed her invisibility?"

Dave chuckled. "I knew you guys knew about her. Well, let's just say that she's working on it."

"Of course...but then, without the laboratory notes, we don't have anything to charge her with. It was a tragic fire at that lab...too bad the rest of the notes were lost before the fire department could put the blaze out. Too bad...the arsonist was a trusted Army officer," Witherspoon said.

===============================================================

"THIS is what you found?" Melissa said.

"Well, for all legal purposes, no, YOU did," Dave said. They were looking over the files and notes that were 'liberated' from the fire, implicating Dr. Bruce Miller and Col. William Johnson in a conspiracy to use the funds from the proceeds of the chemical's uses for illegal activities.

"And they thought they'd never get caught," Mel said.

"Well, if we don't act fast, they never will. Now, let's figure out how you're going to surrender to the police..."

"How about I surrender myself to a certain helicopter pilot?"

"Well, that's a good idea, but, remember, I'm on vacation..."

"You can always cut it short, can't you?"

"I could...and you have a point. Anyone else would immediately haul you off to jail."

Melissa thought for a moment. "I could use a car and fake my own death."

"Too extreme, but let's hold that as a backup, in case Plan A fails."

"What's Plan A?"

"Well, my dear...:"

"You know I hate it when you call me 'dear'!"

Dave kissed her. "I know, but if you'll bear with me, and, to coin a phrase, 'Here's my plan...'"

===============================================================

==============================================

Wedding Announcements - Los Angeles Times, December 31, 1999:

==============================================

Handerson - Raymond

The Wayfarer's Chapel, Rancho Palos Verdes, CA, was the site of the wedding of Melissa Lynn Handerson to David Earl Raymond, both of Torrance, CA, with The Rev. Dennard Summers officiating.

The bride is a chemical engineer at Ray-Tec Engineering, Long Beach, CA. She is a 1987 graduate of The University Of Idaho, Moscow, Idaho.

The bridegroom is a helicopter pilot for the Los Angeles Police Department, Torrance Division. He is also a 1987 graduate of The University Of Idaho, Moscow, Idaho.

Robert Glass, of Rancho Palos Verdes, CA, was best man. Ushers were Eric Wilson, of Statesville, NC; Greg Witherspoon, of Washington, DC; Paul Cwick, of San Francisco, CA; and Capt. Doug Graham, of Fairchild AFB, Spokane, WA.

Kim Ali of New York City, NY , served as maid of honor. Bridesmaids were Anita Houston, of Washington, DC; Nicole Ali, of New York City, NY, Pippa Moran, of London, England, and Naoko Shinaharu, of Tokyo, Japan.

A reception was held at the Wayfarer's Chapel.

Music provided by "The Bad Boys, LAPD's Own 'Song And Dance Routine' Band."

Wedding decorations were provided by Balloon Affair of Torrance.

The couple is making their home in Torrance.

===============================================================

===============================================================